


Why would murder make me love you?

by Rogercat



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bodyguard, Co-workers, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Festivals, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Major Illness, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Murder, Police, Religious Conflict, Toddlers, Violence, badass mothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: When someone murders young women who have converted to a different faith, and their future husbands as well, Thranduil and Bard have to work with outside help to ensure that no innocents will be caught in the mess
Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Thranduil, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sauron & Arien
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. A pattern in victims

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nuredhel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuredhel/gifts).



> This story is a mix of Nuredhel's story Beast, its sequel Angels and Crooks, as well a alternative version of my own modern Silmarillion AU story called To move North
> 
> The faith of Mahal is meant to be this story's version of Islam, and the faith of Eru for Christianity 
> 
> please notice that I, the author, am against prejudices and discrimination of other people's faith, culture and anything similiar, which I will NOT accept in the comments, thank you

Today was a day like any other at the retirement home. But the sun was shining, promising to be a warm weather this fine spring day. 

“It is wonderful that my fiance thought I should continue working after the wedding, when he learned how appreciated I am in the kitchen here!” 

The young woman, who had converted to the Faith of Mahal some months ago as a sign of a new start in her life together with a man of that faith, adjusted her head scarf a bit since it had started to slide off her hair. 

She spotted the danger in the reflection from the window on her left, too late.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Thror was not happy over the newest murder case that the police had gotten their hands on. Religion was a sensitive subject, and by all means, should not be used as a reason for murder. Worse, this was the fifth murder for roughly the same reason in the last six months. 

“Ester Delaine, 23 years of age, working in the retirement home as cook after college. Converted to the Faith of Mahal some months ago.” 

The gun shots that had ended Ester's life, had caused great alarm among the elders who still heard some fairly well without assistance and had been awakened by the shots- Her co-workers, the normal staff, was in great shock over that someone had murdered the sweet young woman. 

“Ester loved her work with the elders, and we would marry in two months in the Eastern Sultanate with all our relatives present…!” 

Her Easterling fiance was in great distress over the news, blaming himself for what could be the motive: her converting to his faith. 

“We will not let this go unpunished, my good man, that murderer shall be caught before more victims are found.”

But when the fiance was allowed to look over her belongings that had been in her small handbag at the time of her death, something was missing. 

“Her spare key to my bakery! I gave her one to have in case I lost my own…!” 

One of the officers offered to give him a drive to the bakery, in case there had been a break-in while the grieving man had been here at the station to confirm that it indeed was Ester who had been murdered, 

  
  


Back at the retirement home, Thranduil and Bard had just finished the questioning of the staff members if they knew anything that might point to a suspect. It had taken some time, as many of the elders were still upset over what had happened this morning and also needed their daily care from the nurses, so the questioning took some longer time than originally planned. Now they was driving back to the police station. 

“Mentions of hate mail on her cell phone ever since they started dating one year ago, and anonymous letters where both Ester herself and her fiance was threatened to their lives…”

Thranduil said nothing at first, only listening to Bard making a summation over what they had found out so far. 

“Someone who hates the faith of Mahal and, based on what it said in those letters, perhaps have lost a girlfriend or relative to a man from the Eastern Sultanate. That loss makes the murderer bitter since he was unable to prevent her converting from happening, and views men in the faith of Mahal as demonic thieves who steals women raised in the faith of Eru…” 

Bard did not like this either. The social unrest in the Eastern Sultanate fifteen years ago, caused by Sultan Graim III dying without biological heirs due to being infertile, had been the reason to many people from the Sultanate to move here to Valinor, in fear of that it could become civil war. And naturally, there was believers in Eru who did not want Easterlings to be in Valinor at all. Then one of their cell phones rang: 

“Yes? A request about a arrest from Minas Morgul training of professional bodyguards? Some idiotic brat from the nearby collage trying to threaten one of the bodyguards-in-training there due to him being a Easterling?”

Thranduil knew that company. It was owned by Sauron Barad-dûr, a minor businessman who was famed for his unexpected skills in technology and computers. Erestor almost sang praises about that man, especially after Erestor had the great fortune of winning a whole new computer model to use in his job, from a lottery that Sauron had organized in favor of donating money to unmarried mothers and their children, who lived on the border to poverty due to poorly paid jobs or other circumstances. 

“I guess that mr Barad-dûr did not want to risk the future bodyguards to actually hurt that college student and risk getting dragged to court over it.” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The situation was reasonable calm when they arrived. No one seemed to have gotten hurt, and two of the future bodyguards was busy in a boxing ring, the others cheering on the pair. As fine specimen they was and pleasant to watch, Bard had to cancel the match by ringing a larger bell, the kind used by school teachers in the 19th century, to get some attention. 

“Excuse us, we would arrest someone here,” Thranduil explained, holding up his badge to show who they were. Out of the two in the ring, an tall yet muscular Easterling bowed with his head in greeting to his opponent, then used sign language to have them follow him. 

“Khamûl can't speak because of a injury to his throat as a child, officers, you will only get responses in the form of him writing something down,” one slightly older man in training clothes said. Indeed, a ray from the setting sun fell on the Eastering's throat as he passed by a window, revealing a huge scar that seemed have been caused by some form of violence. It looked old, as it had been caused in childhood, and from the way it was placed, the scar would be impossible to lessen though the use of a cosmetic surgery because it overlapped the large blood vessels in the throat.

“Eastern Sultanate, the only bombing during the social unrest,” Thranduil whispered to Bard in a breath as he sensed something in the aura from the Easterling. Khamûl himself only looked at them in a silent request to follow him up the stairs to the second floor. 

  
  


In fact, the personal bodyguards used by Sauron had overwhelmed the younger man and dragged him to Sauron's private office, where the businessman himself was giving a scolding: 

“This company is training anyone who wants to be a bodyguard, no matter their age, race, faith or sexuality. You may not be one of the students here, but I will not accept a cocky puppy trying to cause trouble. Racist comments are not something I approve of in the language used inside this building.” 

“That damned Easterling will only try to steal someone's sister, force her into becoming his new bride and then place her in a harem…!?” 

As Khamûl entered the office with Bard and Thranduil right behind, he picked up a thick folder filled with papers in his hands and slammed it all down on the youngster's head to shut him up.

“Ah, thank you for correcting him about one of the prejudices that unfortunately exists about those in the faith of Mahal, Khamûl. I was very tempered to do something similar myself, as I hate listening to the nonsense of  _ fools _ ,” Sauron smiled, not caring at all about the loose papers that spilled over his desk as a result. 

Choosing to ignore what simply was a much-needed discipline about that one could not act out on stereotypes towards others and quickly putting the baffled young man in handcuffs before he caused a new scene, Bard thanked the businessman and the bodyguards for giving them a easy prey to catch in this case. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Unfortunately, as they arrived back to the police station after tossing in the foul-mouthed young man into a holding cell with some good threats to literally wash out his mouth with soap for using such rude slurs against Easterlings, news came that Ester Delaine's Easterling fiance had been shot to death in his apartment at arriving back from the bakery after choosing to not have it open on this horrible day, when the neighbors heard the sound of a gunshot and a window glass that was crushed. One couple next-door had seen someone rush out from the apartment, but but their description of the killer was far too obscure except that they saw that it was a black-haired man around thirty years of age, dressed in black and still holding a gun in one hand as he ran down the stairs to the ground level to escape before the police arrived. 

Judith had already taken care of the body, and confirmed that the cause of death was a single shot in the head. The murder victim had also been stuck down with something heavy from behind, likely to avoid possible resistance before the killing shot. Since there had been fresh blood on a lovely stone heart that was a gift to celebrate the engagement, there was little doubt about that the stone heart had been used. 

“This is the fourth fiance that was killed within 24 hours after that his wife-to-be was shot! Nine murderers in total so far, all with roughly the same motive, the five young women who had converted and four of their future husbands, all five young adult men who happens to hail from either the Eastern Sultanate or Rhûn!” Thror stormed in anger over that they had failed to prevent a new murder, and powerlessness mixed with fear that it would happen again. 

And Thror was worried for a good reason. Next weekend there would be a food festival held in a local Mosque, in the hope of serving traditional food dishes from eastern Middle-earth and show some of the different cultures from that part of the world. If the murderer wanted to kill as many as possible and escaping in some form of chaos, the festival would be a perfect place. 

“Ask mr Barad-dûr if he can strengthen our defense of the festival with those who are fully trained bodyguards from his company. There will be many families with young children there, and Sauron said something about that he insists on part of the training involves being able to protect children if needed. That could help us.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

One week later, on the train station: 

“Of course I want to be present and taste all the good food here at this food festival that will have a theme from your faith this year, Simin! It will be fun for Dior as well to see something new,” Emeldir Ladros spoke as the two women left the train, pulling their bags and a stroller along. The one-year-old toddler babbled and pointed at different things around them, trying to say something to his grandmother and her neighbor on the way towards the hotel where they would stay over the weekend. 

“Yes, Dior, we will be meeting Khamûl at the food festival,” Simin smiled at the small boy. She and Emeldir had been neighbors in their hometown for the past fifteen years, since Simin and her son Khamûl arrived to Valinor as refugees from the Eastern Sultanate. As a widow with not many relatives alive in either her own birth family of that of her in-laws, especially after losing her husband and several in-laws in the same bombing that had cost her son his ability to speak, Simin had chosen to leave her homeland in the hope of a better life for her son, as Khamûl would not have a easy time finding a good job because of his handicap. 

“Speaking about sons….what are Beren doing those days, since you basically kicked him out of the house for how irresponsible he proved himself with his infant son?” 

The horrible memories of what nearly had happened over a year ago, made Emeldir feel angry again. It was a good thing that she held her bag and the stroller in each hand instead of her grandson, otherwise Dior would have started to wail in protest of being held too tightly against her. 

“Which person with common sense would not freak out at finding their three-months old grandson in a cold room with a open window, in the middle of February, all because the father tried to “shut him up” from crying during the night?! Dior could have died from that pneumonia he caught, and it is not his fault that he suffered from colic either!” 

Beren had found himself arrested by the local police for child neglect, and danger to another's life because Dior had been between life and death for a few days because of the pneumonia. As a result, he had been sentenced to three years in prison, and also given the burden of paying the expensive hospital bill for the care his son had needed. For a unemployed man in his early 20s, that was a bill which would take a long time to pay. 

“Really, that kind of action only highlights that he failed the “Care for living infants and toddlers”-class that all the students at our local high school have to do, because it is a  **_compulsory curriculum_ ** for their final exams. Besides, what is better contraceptives for teenage pregnancies than the young girls and boys learning the reality of being parents before they try anything that could lead to a pregnancy?” Simin wondered aloud, recalling how Khamûl had been one of the top ranked students in that class simply because he always showed up as a babysitter when it was needed even when that curriculum had been finished. 

“Agh, it does not help that my own parents thinks that I am the reason behind Beren being a single parent either! The moment they learned about Dior and that his mother was nowhere in sight, they ranted on in style of “ _ what did you do to scare away the mother?! _ ”, “ _ You are not welcoming enough for any daughter-in-law, _ ” and “ _ How can you still work when your own son does not have a job and not take care of your grandson for Beren while he searches for a job! _ ”. As if I can quit my work as the head historian on the museum out of the blue and act as a nanny for Dior, when my idiotic son is too lazy to find a work to support himself and his infant son! He kept nagging about how unfair it was that he and Dior's mother was forcefully separated by her father, but what else can one do, when the young lady in question is already engaged at their first meeting and Beren plants the idea of elopement in her head, after learning that he knocked her up behind the back of her future husband?”

Emeldir did not want to think of the circumstances that had led to her being the established guardian and caretaker for her grandson. Her own parents had always thought that her lack of a second child was out of laziness, when it in reality had its cause in that she suffered from ovulatory problems and any pregnancy had been very difficult to hope for. On top of losing Barahir ten years into their marriage because of the injures he had suffered in the social unrest of the Eastern Sultanate, her parents had always doted on and spoiled Beren for being a “poor lad without any father or siblings” as he father said, as well the youngest grandchild of the whole family. And then Beren had really messed things up two years ago...

“Ganwa!” Dior shrieked from the stroller, demanding her attention once again as he wanted to walk on his own two feet. 

“Yes, cutie. One moment.” 

The hotel was just in front of them now. Later this evening they would eat on a nice restaurang somewhere, and tomorrow it would be the food festival. Simin knew that her adult son would be there, so it was a perfect chance to meet up face-face after several months with only letters and cell phone contact. Besides, it would be wonderful to be surrounded by others of the same faith and culture as well after so long time here in the western world. 


	2. The bonds of mothers and sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relationship between a mother and a son can look very different

As soon as he and Thranduil came home, Sigrid and Tilda met them in the door, telling their dad and stepfather about that several female classmates in their school classes had expressed fear of whoever it was that was doing those murders. 

“They are fearing not only for themselves, but their families as well since they are following the faith of Mahal. Fatima in my class even had a nervous breakdown near the end of the school day because she is terrified of the Mosque possibly being bombed!” Tilda told them with great worry, for she was very good friends with this classmate and had seen her grow more and more terrified over the school day as the hours passed. 

That was a fear Thranduil had to agree about being very realistic, given what kind of victims that was targeted. Thror had sent a force to watch over the mosque this evening, just in case something did happen during the Friday prayer. With the nine murders so far, they could not pretend that everything was fine. 

“Let us enjoy a early family dinner before we join up with the others again. Some families would stay behind after the prayer and prepare a couple of things for that food festival tomorrow.” 

Bain and Legolas thankfully had been helping Jean in making a good-sized amount of hot sandwiches in the oven, the teenage boys adding on some leftover roasted beef on their fathers' share of it. A whole kettle of coffee had been made earlier and already poured into a thermos with two huge cups by Sigrid, which she and Tilda had done as a surprise gift for Bard and Thranduil's first wedding day. 

“Evening snacks too, if you arrive home late!” 

Homemade hazelnut cookies might not be the best evening snack, but Tilda meant well in they might need their energy before arriving back home again. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the mosque, it was not only the police but also some of the bodyguards under Sauron. The prayer went well, but you never knew if there would something unusual. 

Simin felt inner joy over finally being surrounded by others of the same faith again. She was not the only one in her current hometown, no, far from it, but they were in a minority there and not all of them had came as refugees from the same area or even country. 

“It is great to see you again, Khamûl. I know that you are earning well on this work, but I just wish that you could come home a little more often.”

She spoke her native language that was not far off from Rhûnic, since Rhûn was the neighboring country to the Eastern Sultanate. As Khamûl could not respond, he wrote down on a notepad: 

_ A lot more calmer now when mr Barad-dûr broke the job contact with that fashion company almost one and a half year ago. Something about the owner's attitude reminding him of something unpleasant. It was not a sudden act out of the blue, I could see that it was something old.  _

Khamûl had no idea why Sauron had quit the contact like that, but knew that his boss must have some very good reason because the beauty company had paid them a massive amount of money for their employment. The loss of that percentage in salary had not been fun, but Sauron had managed to find other well-off people who were not only more pleasant to work with, but who could also pay a decent sum. 

“Oh, right, Emeldir and Dior came along with me. Her parents have been unpleasant ever since their “poor, innocent” grandson went to jail and flat out refuses to accept that Beren really is a immature, lazy, selfish... _ freeloader _ thanks to how they treated him after the death of his father,” Simin managed to find a good word for Emeldir's son, who Khamûl had been a classmate of, ”really, one would think that they would feel some sympathy for their daughter as a widow and single mother, but no, their complaint was that she works like any modern woman instead of caring for her son like a stay-at-home mother and has no more children than him!” 

Khamûl rolled his eyes in agreement to what his mother said. Beren Ladros had not been the kind of friend he would have chosen himself, but it was the late Barahir Ladros who had saved Simin and her son from the bomb, and who had helped them came to Valinor a few months later to start a new life. And while the Easterling mother and son rarely had met Emeldir's parents, the few meetings had given them more than enough information about how things was in the family. 

_ As if Emeldir would have allowed Beren to stay in her home again without without contributing money to the household in the form of work or rent. A adult that is healthy and not limited by physical or mental disability, should not expect to live off relatives.  _

Honestly, it had not surprised Khamûl at all to find that Beren had been landed with a child he had sired on someone, or that Emeldir found herself as the main caretaker of her grandson because of her son acting as he did....

“Move it, Khamûl! Mr Barad-dûr needs to see this!” Thuringwethil, one of the newest and few female bodyguards, suddenly ordered as she ran out from the segregated space for women, still dressed in a head shawl as part of her disguise together with a few female police officers. She was carrying something in her arms, a bag of some kind. 

  
  


Sauron had been speaking with Thranduil and Bard about this case, and just offered to help them try finding a clue to why the murderer targeted his victims, when a female voice called loudly: 

“ Mr Barad-dûr! We found this behind one of the pillar in the segregated space for women, I think your s _ pecial suitcase _ is needed!” 

Acting quickly, Sauron pulled out a locked suitcase from below his driver seat and opened it. It was a laptop inside, and a few other things, including a stethoscope of all things. 

“You never know what you might need as a security elite, my good officers.”

When Thuringwethil opened the bag, it was clear why she had been in a such hurry. It was a time-controlled bomb, and the time set the day after, in the middle of the food festival where so many visitors would be there. 

“The murderer will not enjoy tomorrow, I am afraid. A time bomb that would go off not many minutes after a smoke bomb, likely to cause panic as it is set off, and then cover the murderer as he shoots more victims.”

Thranduil and Bard hurried to ensure that no one came close to the car, while Sauron proved why he was called a genius about computers and technology. By pulling on some plastic gloves to avoid that his own finger prints got on and using the work toys in the suitcase, he somehow managed to disconnect the time bomb so it was harmless. 

“There, another proof for you to use in a future trial, officers.” 

Bard stared at the bomb in unease, as the bag was closed again and handed over to one of their co-workers to be taken to the lab for better investigation. 

“This person really do not like the faith of Mahal, for whatever reason that lays behind the murders. Thranduil?”

His husband nodded, looking like he wanted to not be there. 

“A very deep hate, for sure. Say...the victims did belong to the believers here, right? It must be why the mosque was targeted, the murderer must have hoped to kill as many people as possible in the bombing.”

“Officers!” 

A new person had came out from a newly parked car, a young woman with a head shawl covering her head though a few blonde hair curl had managed to sneak out under the fabric, and a male Easterling right behind her. 

“My fiance and I found this in the mail to our apartment when we returned home from the prayer!”

It was the same kind of dead threats as in the other murders. A new set of targets had been chosen. 

“Ah, you do not happen to…?”

“Have converted, yes. Two years ago, in secret, not long after meeting and dating him for a while,” she responded with a nervous look on her future husband, who looked very afraid for them both. 

“Try and act normally tomorrow, we will do our best to catch the murderer before he gets one of you.” 

That murderer would be caught and set behind bars for the rest of their natural lives, for sure. Or being transmitted to the Eastern Sultanate and facing a punishment there, there had actually been a request for that from someone very high up in the court of the sultan, since the first murdered woman had been a wife-to-be to a younger grandson of a vizier there. That was the reason to why the first fiance had avoided being murdered, that he had returned home to tell his family about the coming wedding. 

“We better get home and try getting some sleep for tomorrow, for I fear that it will be a long day of work.”

No one doubted that, at least.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The next morning, Emeldir was woken up by suddenly getting a tiny, closed fist against her lips. 

“I am not a pillow, cutie,” she muttered, gently moving Dior a bit away. This was one of the few times her grandson had been sleeping somewhere else than their house or at one of his babysitter so she had not been surprised that Dior had been a little fussy at waking up at one point during the night and not recognized the hotel room from something he knew. 

Simin had already woken up and been in shower, so she was currently brushing her hair so she could set it up in her usual braid that would be covered by the headshawl later. 

“The police said that they would bring in extra reinforcement of security from one of the other cities around. Khamûl will arrive at nine to drive us to the mosque.”

That was a good plan, Emeldir agreed as she started to help Dior dress for the day. The two women had their own methods of keeping themselves safe, but this was a situation where it was best to listen to those in change. 

“If only Beren had half of Khamûl's determination to get good grades in school and willingness to work hard paired with realistic expectations about life, he would not be in jail now…” 

No, nothing here in the present would change by regretting things in the past, Emeldir reminded herself. No matter what he thought, her son had faced consequences of his own actions, not only about Dior but a lot of other things he had done and since he kept treating her as if she was a breathing bank account to request money from, Beren would himself homeless and unemployed without any close friends or family members to help him out once he was free. 

“Ganwa?” Dior asked, pulling on her long shirt and holding up his stuffed snowy owl-toy towards her. It was not the first time he tried to comfort her in that manner. 

“Thank you, Dior. You are already sensitive to how other people think,” she said gently to her grandson, picking him up in her arms as Simin reminded Emeldir that they had to eat breakfast and getting themselves ready for the day later. 

  
  


In their home, after a thankfully peaceful night, Bard and Thranduil had just finished breakfast. Then, as they was getting dresses for the job today, one of the their cellphones rang. 

“Yes. Oh, officer Fingolfin Ringil, good thing that you are calling. You are at the hotel? Yeah, I know that one, pleasant place.”

Among the reinforcement Thror had requested, was a group of police officers from a nearby city. They were led by Fingolfin Ringil, an police officer that had won some fame when it came to cases with a lot of possible victims being targeted. 

“You have a guess on who the murderer might be?” Thranduil asked, signaling for Bard to give him paper and a pen, “That criminal group we calls the Gaurwaith among the police, lead by the  _ Dragon-helm _ ?” 

Bard knew the code-name, formed so after a blurry photograph where a witness had managed to photo a mysterious group, dressed in fake wolf skins as they had ruined a very grand wedding where the bride and bridegroom was believers in Mahal. The leader had been wearing a helmet with a dragon motif, which was why he was called so. 

“Yes...yes, we will drive to the mosque right away. We can meet there.”

The food festival would begin at ten, they had to be there in good time and fix all the things needed to increase the security. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Shortly after nine, Sauron drove up to a nursing home, in a different part of the town than the one where the latest murder happened last Friday. The reason behind his arrival, was living in one of the rooms here. 

“Oh, mr Barad-dûr! Just in time, your mother have finished breakfast and even managed to remind herself that you would visit today thanks to the letter you sent yesterday to her,” a staff member greeted him. 

“Sweet to hear. I hope that the planned event for today will go well.”

His mother Arien was not even fifty years old, but she had been struck by early-onset Alzheimer's disease one year ago, and were slowly losing her memories. 

“Mairon!” Arien said in joy at seeing her son, clearly helped by the photo of them both from a few years ago where Sauron had written down their names and family relationship with a pen. He was not surprised by that she addressed him with his birth name, he had chosen Sauron as a name to use in his business work, and partly to ensure that no one would find out about some very sensitive topics in his past. 

“Good morning, mother. As I said in the letter I sent you this week, there is a food festival at a local mosque today and tomorrow which I think you would like to visit. You have always wanted us to be able to do an overseas trip, but I think this festival might be better due to your...current health.” 

Arien looked a little sad at first at the small reminder of how she had struggled to make ends meet as a unwed mother while her son grew up, but then realized what he meant. 

“Yes…” 

Offering her his arm, Sauron escorted her out to the car. 

  
  
  


At one point along the road as Sauron drove towards one of the city parks just outside the mosque, Arien spotted a advertising sign for Doriath Beauty on a building, and made a unhappy face at seeing the young woman who was in the image alongside a makeup set. 

“That  _ fucking _ bastard is still using his  **_precious legitimate daughter_ ** as the face for his company?!” Arien snarled in a venomous voice, her hands held so tightly around the soft stress-ball that her fingertips turned nearly white. As he had to stop for a red traffic light, Sauron used a chance to place one hand on her shoulder.

“Mother! I have found the means to bring Doriath Beauty and Thingol Greymantle to ruin, I have already started to toast him a little by the secret scandal I helped to cover up one and a half year ago. His beloved little nightingale gave me a little unexpected help by having a lover behind the back of her arranged bridegroom-to-be and had to hide the pregnancy before the media found out about it.” 

Arien started at him with a slightly blank look, as her brain struggled to piece the information together. 

“I know that you have mentioned it...something about... **_a baby boy,_ ** just like you, who was thrown aside…” 

She hated how her memory loss affected her so in everyday life when she sometimes struggled for several minutes in order to find the right words to speak with or recalling what a particular object is called, how it was a illness with no cure, and that it was unlikely that she would live past the age of 60 even with the best of care. Arien greatly feared the day when she would no longer recognize her own son, her only child. She had no other relatives outside Sauron, since he had been a child in the foster care system almost straight from birth after being dumped outside a hospital in a basket and aged out from the system at the age of 18 without anyone adopting her. As far as Arien knew, she could very well have been born to a school-aged teenage mother who had hoped to give her a better life among strangers, and sadly that had not come true. 

“Yes. My little  **_nephew_ ** is living with his own paternal grandmother up in the north, because  _ that man _ did not want it become known that his daughter had a child out of wedlock. One of my contacts have a close relative that is neighbors with her and confirms that the boy is unlikely to have a good relationship with his  _ waster  _ to father. Honestly, how that nightingale could fall for Here, a photo that might cheer you up, from that contact I mentioned.”

Arien smiled weakly at seeing the photo of a small boy attempting to push forwards on a very small tricycle, and a pair of female hands which gently held him steady. 

“Really, I hope that one day, thanks to all this waiting time-bomb with the new paternity tests, there will be a explosion of scandals where young men will not be able to escape the fact that they have sired children that they have to take  _ responsibility for,  _ even if they already are married or not.” 

Sauron, who knew the identity of his biological father, knew why Arien hated Doriath Beauty so much and why there was a such stigma towards unmarried mothers. She was one of the victims of the old double-standards when it came to sexual behavior among unmarried people. 

“Ah, we have arrived. Let us try to enjoy this food festival today as mother and son, so there is a nice memory together.”

Taking back the photo to place it in a inner pocket of his suit, Sauron helped Arien to come out from the car. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the Eastern Sultanate to be a empire akin to the RL Ottoman Empire, and that it lays close the Orocarni Mountains in eastern Middle-earth
> 
> Why Arien as Sauron's mother and why she have early-onset Alzheimer's disease? I wanted to try something that could give him a reason to be present at the events, especially if he is a successful businessman that tries very hard to hide his past in poverty, as well that his mother is terminally ill that will end in her death. Arien struggled as a single mother as Sauron grew up, and having her own not so happy experiences of the foster care system, she did not want to give him up for adoption after being knocked up by his father and unable to pay for a abortion because she was fired soon after getting pregnant.


	3. Hidden skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The criminals make their move, but finds themselves surprised by that not all women are passive

Bard and Thranduil met up with Fingolfin Ringil not far from the mosque. The non-local police officer was in his older years, late 40s if nothing else, but there was no doubt about that he was dangerous in his own way. 

“Alright, with some luck we might finally catch those wolves in human shape and their leader. They have been a thorn in the side of many police units over the past two years, and it is well past time that their growing list of victims comes to a end.” 

Thranduil looked at the list of victims found in other cities or towns. All young women who had converted to the faith of Mahal, and their Easterling fiancés. A few victims was unrelated to the others, being innocents who had been shot at different places where the Wolf men had attacked. 

“The chosen victims now are Amir, a tailor in a self-made company that has become known for their wedding dresses, and his fiancée Lalaith. They had planned to use her and a few other young women as models for the wedding dresses they make, so it is very likely that a attack will strike then.”

The planned bride show was planned to twelve o'clock and last for a hour. Less than two hours left, as the festival had just begun. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As he helped Emeldir to set up the stroller and place Dior in it, Khamûl heard his cell phone made its typical sound for a messenger from either Sauron or one of his fellow Nazgûl, the personal bodyguards of Sauron because the businessman had made a few enemies in how quickly he had raised in the business world and also rejected offers from wealthy people to work for them. 

_ Master Sauron just arrived with his mother. Keep a eye out for any signs that could spell trouble, Angmar.  _

Nothing special, but still important. None of them outside Angmar had met lady Arien before since Angmar had been the first one in the group to join Sauron as a employee, but Sauron had still put a lot of demands about that she was to be protected in secret even when he was not visiting her on the nursing home. He had never said why, but Khamûl knew that Arien was ill in some manner that would not let her live to old age. Besides, Sauron had once mentioned that with the modern advanced technology with the internet and similar things that you couldn't do just a few years ago, there was a high risk of that a unpleasant person from Arien's past could find out that Arien had a adult son, and that Sauron was old enough to be connected to something that would not be seen with kind eyes by certain people with out-of-age views. 

“Kau! Kau!” Dior babbled when he recognized Simin's son from all the photos of him in her home. Khamûl smiled at the toddler, letting the small boy pull on his pants. 

“Good with making small children trust you as always,” Simin joked, recalling how her teenage son had sometimes been spotted with a small entourage of preschool children following him around like ducklings when he had a summer job near one of the preschools in their hometown. 

“Rather that than having no idea how to deal with children at all. That shock I got when the high school called me in the middle of a meeting at the museum to let me know that Beren would fail that compulsory school subject, which was meant to teach the adolescents stuff about adulthood that could help them avoid mistakes…” 

Emeldir was referring to the compulsory school subject in the high school where the students, being teenagers and in a age where they would start explore the sexual side of life, was given a first-hand look into the reality of parenthood by having to babysit infants, toddlers and preschool-aged children for various couples around the town. In some cases, they were even requested to stay overnight or more than 24 hours to really learn that this was the reality that would await them if they became teenage parents without doing a abort or giving up the baby for adoption after birth. Both girls and boys had to do this unexpected part of their education in order to graduate with fully approved grades from high school. 

“Yeah, Beren not even showing up at the homes where he was intended to babysit so the parents could get a evening for themselves and instead remaining home when you were at meetings at work since he knew that you would come home late at such evenings, was not giving a good impression of him actually realizing that this could have been a skill he needed later in life if he ever married and became a father,” Simin agreed with her friend, that had been a warning sign of how different their sons would be in personality and maybe even a foreshadowing of them as adults. 

  
  


However, soon they got other things to focus on. Despite the threat that hung over the festival, the organizers were determined that it would be a success despite the necessary presence of police officers. Simin heard many speak in her own mother tongue, and thus acted as a translator for Emeldir when she asked something about the goods offered for sale in the stands. 

“As a historian, things like those fine jewelry sets and embroidered cloth are an important detail not only to history, but also cultural differences.” 

Simin showed no surprise over that Emeldir had her notebook in hand and writing down stuff to memorize for later. Dior was content with looking around from the stroller after getting a cut-up piece of melon to enjoy. As they walked around, Simin took the chance to buy a few small blocks of watercolours, the kind she used for her homemade paintings. 

  
  


So far, neither Bard or Thranduil had spotted anyone who stood out among the visitors. 

“Officer Bowman!”

It wa Fatima, the classmate of Tilda, who came running with a plate of freshly baked naan bread, stuffed with kebab meat and a herbal sauce. 

“My father thought that you officers might need something in your stomach, since it is unlikely to get a proper lunch break for this work today!” 

“Thank you, it is well appreciated.”

That was very likely to happen, and Fingolfin got a kebab-stuffed naan bread as well when Fatima was joined by her younger sisters and female cousins in the task of serving food to the police officers. 

“The bride show is gonna start soon, if they attack then…”

Thranduil was sure of that the attack would happen then, because the bride show would gain everyone's attention and be looking in the same direction. 

  
  


Meanwhile Sauron and Arien had also taken a small break from all the sights, and taken something to eat as well. Pleased with the jewelry Sauron had brought her, Arien was in a very good mood. She did not know that Angmar was hidden not far from them, Sauron was armed with a pistol of his own, but Arien had no way of defending herself if something happened now. 

“Mairon. This reminds me of what I used to dream about...the trips to foreign lands we never could afford, but which we still talked about to do when you become an adult and could help me to earn some extra money.”

Yes, he could recall that too. Only them two as long as he could remember, Arien never finding a husband because Sauron's very existence together with the absence of a wedding ring or the traditional ring with an onyx that indicated that she was a widow, made it very hard to find a man willing to accept a bride who had a child out of wedlock. 

That kind of old-fashioned view had loosened over the past two decades, but it had not vanished all completely. Religion still held a important part of everyday life for many. 

“Even with that you will lose your memory in a few years, mother, I still want to bring you out on events like this, because it will be fine memories for me when you are too ill to leave the nursing home later.” 

Sauron knew that once Arien was no longer alive, nothing would stop him from doing more illegal things. But until then, he would ensure that she had all the care she needed. As her only child and known relative, that duty fell on him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The bride show had started, and the first lady out on the small scene was no one else than Lalaith, dressed in a lovely ball gown with long sleeves and high collar in green and gold, wearing a matching hijab on her head to keep her hair hidden from view. 

“I do not like that she is the first out...she is like a deer in flashlight for a attack…” Bard admitted in a whisper to Thranduil, who suddenly got a bad feeling along his spine. Something was about to happen, any moment now. 

“AAAAAAH!” 

A dark-dressed man had grabbed a Easterling woman, holding a gun towards her head. 

“Don't move or she will get a bullet in her brain!”

The Wolf men and their leader had chosen to strike. But Simin, who had been taken hostage, had no intention to be a passive victim. 

“ **_Uncouth cad, did not your mother teach you to treat women with respect!?_ ** ”

As Emeldir got the man's attention by her words, Simin threw up her bag with the watercolour blocks in his face. As the blocks was not that hard, they broke apart at the force she used and a cloud made of different colours blocked his sight while Simin stomped on his feet to get free. Her head shawl had prevented her from getting the colour cloud in her face as well. 

“Wha…” 

Khamûl, understandably, was not happy at all that someone had dared to lay hand on his mother like that, and tackled the criminal to the ground, showing why he was one of Sauron personal bodyguards despite still being in his early 20s. 

“ **_NOW!!_ ** ” Fingolfin ordered, the other police officers and the trained bodyguards doing their best to grab hold on and disarm several people in the crowd who they had spotted to act strangely. 

“Get to the sides, everyone!” Bard shouted, helping a older man who had been pushed to the ground when the gathered families tried to get away from the attack. 

But one of the Wolf men, dressed in the infamous dragon helm to show himself as the leader, had managed to mount one of the horses which had been used by a few of the riding police earlier, forcing the crowd apart as he rode towards where the young women in the bride dresses had tried to leave the scene. 

“Lalaith!” her fiancé screamed as she was grabbed around her waist, to be pulled up on the horse. 

“Amir!” 

To make things worse, the rider turned the horse to ride against a small group of gathered toddlers, whose parents was too far away to save them in time. And Emeldir saw to her horror that Dior was among them. 

“ **_NOT MY GRANDSON, BARBARIAN!!_ ** ”

Acting out of instinct, she pulled out something from her belt and aimed with both hands. A gunshot echoed as the helmed man fell off the horse and letting go of Lalaith in the same movement, having been hit in one shoulder. 

Thranduil, who had been closer to the distressed children, gave her a shocked look but chose to ignore the small handgun for now, one of the toddlers could have been killed if a hoof landed on a head from above. 

“Ganwa! Ganwa!” Dior cried in confusion and fear over what was going on, trying to find her among all the adults. 

“Dior!” 

Emeldir rushed past Thranduil, picking up her grandson to comfort him and also protecting the other toddlers with the gun still in one hand. In the distance, Khamûl and Simin had teamed up, he using a set of tossing daggers and she a improvised sling made by her fabric belt to knock out a few remaining Wolf men with stones, or last ensuring that they could not focus enough long for shooting any of the police. Sauron kept Arien close to himself with his own gun ready for self-defense, backed by Angmar. 

At the same time, Lalaith had overpowered the helmed man by actually trying to strangle him with her hijab. For a young woman of ordinary height and weight, she sure was stronger than she seemed at first look. 

“Miss Lalaith, we need him alive!” Fingolfin said as he ran up to her, Bard helping him to remove her so they could finally see who that it was behind the helmet, the real identity of the leader for this gang of criminals. Since the man was still struggling to breathe after getting so close to being strangled by Lalaith, he did not have any strength left to resist when handcuffs were put on his wrists and his arms were placed behind his back.

“ **_Túrin Turambar!?_ ** ” Sauron exclaimed when he saw who it was: one of his rejected employers from a few years ago, who had tried to have Sauron help in exactly this kind of thing, doing terrorist-attacks on those who followed the faith of Mahal. 

And based on the shocked look on Lalaith's face, which quickly turned into a mix of horror and realization, she must be familiar with who he was as well. 

“You...you have killed... **_YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CALL YOURSELF MY_ ** **_BROTHER_ ** **_ANYMORE, YOUR MURDERER!!_ ** ” she screamed, slapping Túrin forcefully in the face before turning around and cried out for Amir as she ran into the mosque, a very alarmed Amir following her inside. 

Thranduil had been right in the guess that the murderer was someone who did not like that a close female relative had converted to the faith of Mahal and having a Easterling soon-to-be husband. 


	4. A motive for murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a random accident 14 years ago, proves to have ever-lasting effects

Somehow, they managed to calm down the crowd at the mosque just in time for the arrival of ambulances. No one had been killed while capturing the Wolf men and their leader, but there was many among the criminals who had been injured from the unexpected resistance. And several others also needed medical attention due to the shock of the attack or any pre-existing condition that could become dangerous if left unchecked. 

“Madam, if I may?” Thranduil asked Emeldir once she had calmed down Dior somewhat, and she did indeed hand him a license for shooting with a gun that was actually legal, signed only a few months earlier. At a closer look, her gun proved to be the tiny type used by women for self-defense, to hide under their skirts or in a purse during the 18th and 19th century. 

“I was taught how to use a gun by my late husband, and being a historian with a hobby of being a reenactor, it can be very useful to have a gun for self-defense up in Formenos, especially if you also need to protect foolish tourists from the wildlife in Himring national park when they do not obey the rules.” 

Ah, that explained things. Thranduil had heard that that it was not uncommon for civilians to need a license for using a gun in that part of northern Valinor, given that sometimes a large search party was needed in areas with dangerous animals that could harm humans and even kill them. That national park was infamous for...unusual events that ordinary logic could not quite explain, and not to mention the old story of a man-eating monster bear terrorizing the national park about 35 years ago. 

“Thranduil! Thror wants us back to the station, to gather different testimonies from various people here,” Bard called after finishing a phone call. 

Not far away, did Sauron promise to come to the police station as well as soon as he had brought Arien home. His mother was in shock and needed to get away from the chaos. Even if she would forget the events later, Sauron wanted to be with her now. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back at the police station Simin's and Emeldir's testimonies were quickly recorded, because while they had helped to catch the criminals, they would not be the main witnesses and Emeldir's young grandson did not like his grandmother vanishing anymore today after the events at the mosque. 

“Sorry, Dior normally is not this fussy but I believe he was deeply frightened today,” Emeldir said when the toddler cried out for her from a room next door despite that Simin held him in a manner that allowed Dior to see his grandmother through the glass window. Since she was nearly done, they finished her testimoni so the boy would calm down. Given his young age, it was only natural that he wanted to be close to a familiar person. 

Simin also got the chance to explain the reason behind her unexpected skills with a sling: 

“I was born as a daughter to a normal farmer in Rhûn, and proved myself very good in keeping birds away from our crops. It is a skill I have kept alive by training, and even won prizes in the local contests at home in Formenos. Khamûl was taught the art by me.”

That explained why mother and son had worked so well as a team back-to-back in the middle of all the chaos, so the police could catch the Wolf men without too much trouble. And Bard had to agree with Simin, just because she followed a faith that requested women to cover themselves up as a sign of modesty, it did not mean that they was viewed as the weaker gender by their men. 

Lalaith was one of the last witnesses to arrive, for she had needed a visit at the hospital for treating the abrasions on one elbow she received at landing on the ground. 

“Miss Lalaith, your fiance Amir have confirmed that it indeed is your brother who is the Dragon-helmet, leader for the Wolf men. As we already have a confirmation of that you had not been in contact with him for the past two years, can you tell us why?” 

She took a deep breath, and began to tell Thranduil how she had broken all contact with Túrin after an really bad quarrel between the siblings, because he had found out about her dating Amir. Túrin had spoken a lot of racist words, ordering her to break up the relationship immediately while Lalaith had defended Amir and refusing to let her brother threaten her boyfriend for the faith he had. The quarrel had ended with Lalaith storming up to her room, packing two suitcases with clothes and a few personal belongings before leaving the house in the wee hours of dawn while Túrin was asleep. 

Today had been their first meeting face-to-face again since that evening.

“As for his motive for all those murderers...my own convention to the faith of Mahal and choosing a life with Amir is only half of it. The other reason...is when our mother and our unborn sister was killed in a car accident while our family was having a small family holiday in the Eastern Sultanate…” 

She began the tale, of how it all had started: 

14 years ago as the siblings and their parents had been on the way home to their hotel after a nice day at the beach, they had no idea that their happy family was only moments away from breaking apart. Their father Húrin had spotted the car in far too high speed driving straight at them, pushing his son and daughter out of the way. But the pregnant Morwen Turambar had not the same luck, and ended up being hit by the criminal who had been in the middle of escaping the police. 

Someone had called a ambulance which drove Morwen to the nearest hospital, but the acute operation to save her proved to be in vain. On top of everything, her second daughter was far too premature to survive, having been removed from the womb at only five months, and joined her mother in the afterlife barely an hour afterwards, barely living long enough for a emergency baptism where the hospital priest gave her the name Nienor. 

“The seed of my brother's hate towards Easterlings and the faith of Mahal...was sown when mom and Nienor was buried only seven days later in a burial ground far from the tourist center, as our holiday would end the day after and we were not able to gain permission to bring their coffins into the airplane for a funeral here at home with the whole family and other relatives.” 

The faith of Mahal said that a burial had to be done seven days after the date of death, unless it was murder or anything else that required a doctor to examine the body. And since Morwen and Nienor was never returned to their family because they had died in a country on the other side of the earth, Húrin Turambar could only pay for a tombstone with their names and the years of their birth and death to be placed near other tombstones of his relatives. And his son, Túrin, could never forgive or forget the horrible way in which his mother and youngest sister had been taken from him, while Lalaith moved on to accept that life was not fair, and that it most likely had been a accident no one could foresee. 

With time, Húrin had become ill from the grief over the traumatic loss of Morwen, and eventually committed suicide from his depression once both his children were legal adults since he had not wanted to leave them while they still was underage and risked to be spit up by the social services dealing with broken families or that Lalaith had to live with relatives until that she was of age. While inheriting the family wealth as the two direct heirs, Túrin and Lalaith had different opinions about things and they had never managed to regain the close sibling relationship they had in childhood before they lost their mother.

“I am afraid of that my brother is too deep down into his own hate and belief that all Easterlings and anyone who follows the faith of Mahal should be removed from life. I do not think undoing 14 years of such feelings...is easy done,” Lalaith finished in a quiet voice. 

“Your brother have done too many crimes to be allowed to roam free. Terrorist acts and murder are going to make him spend many years behind bars.” 

  
  


In a different room, Sauron was helping the police unlock everything on a private laptop they had found in Túrin's house. 

“Aha, here is the different parts to build that timebomb from yesterday. It seems like he used a lot of his inheritage to buy things which normally would be hard to get your hands on.” 

No one was surprised by that Túrin had a private blog, in which he ranted around over and over how Easterlings was behind the break-down of his family and how he hated the faith of Mahal. 

“Well, he is not escaping justice this time. He was caught in the act, unable to hide that it indeed is him,” Fingolfin said. In total, Túrin had at least fifteen murders and five terrorist acts against him, which would give him lifetime in prison at least twice. 

Thror had just finished a phone call, and now came back. 

“The Eastern Sultanate have just gotten the word of that the Dragon-helmet is captured alongside his men, and there is a official request from the Sultan himself that he and the Wolf men shall be transmitted to the Eastern Sultanate for trial and judgement. It is all over the news right now.” 

Oh boy. That was gonna be a media storm, for sure. And especially when it came out that Túrin had murdered all those converted women and their Easterling husbands-to-be because his own sister had converted to the faith of Mahal. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

On Sunday midday, it was time for Simin, Emeldir and Dior to return home to Formenos. Khamûl escorted them to the train station, to ensure that there was no fools around that could try anything similar to the events yesterday. 

“I hope that you get a chance to come home for a few weeks this summer, Khamûl. It would be boring if you missed the stunning beauty of the national park when it is seducing people from the south,” Simin said, and her son made a few hand signs that promised her that he would be visiting already in a few weeks. 

“ **_WHAT?!_ ** ” Emeldir almost shouted into her cell phone, “our parents have wasted nearly all their saved pension money on trying to bribe the prison to release Beren and more or less bought a house for him even though he never did anything to deserve it? And now they have ended up in such debt that they have to sell both that house and their own home in order to make ends meet?” 

From the way Emeldir tried to have a quiet argument with the other person on the line, it sounded like her parents finally had reached the end of how far they was able to do things for the grandson they made no secret of being their favorite. Well, perhaps this crisis would be the wake-up call they desperately needed about Beren. After all, debts was a heavy burden to shoulder, especially when you also was older and unlikely to be able to work. 

_ Looks like Beren really not gonna find himself with help from his doting grandparents when he gets his freedom back, _ Khamûl wrote in his notepad for his mother to read. Dior, who was seated into stroller, kept staring in confusion at his grandmother because she rarely acted like this.

“Right. Could you handle out those to your chief and the other fellows who are training as bodyguards? Arkenstone Pancakes in Erebor could do well to have good words of their family restaurang be spread further. And you know, internet was not always used for this kind of getting new customers,” Simin requested to her son, who accepted a small collection of brochures. It was a family restaurant in the former mining community known as Erebor in northern Valinor, a place where Simin and Khamûl had enjoyed a good meal several times in the past. 

“Come on, we have a train to board if we are to get home to Formenos by tomorrow afternoon!” 

The two widows had booked a hotel room in Nargothrond to stay overnight, and planned to arrive back in their hometown by the afternoon train to Formenos. Travelling with a energetic toddler could be pretty exhausting, especially as they was closer to fifty than forty years old nowadays. 

“Kau! Kau!” Dior called though the door, and Khamûl smiled as he wailed good-bye to them though the window just as the train started to move. 

  
  


The police station was pretty busy, because a lot of journalists wanted them to tell of how they had managed to catch the Wolf men and their leader. Sauron was also there to help with a few extra research on what Túrin must have been doing under those two years as the Wolf men had spread terror in areas with many Easterlings living. 

“Mr Barad-dûr. I believe that you said something about Túrin Turambar trying to make some form of arrangement with your company?”

Sauron was not surprised over the question, as he was offered a cup of strong, black coffe. 

“He most likely thought that he could bribe me with money into aiding him having a claimed alibi for the times he was out doing his crimes. However, I had actually been warned about him from other people who once used my services, such as that he had a rather antisocial personality and not exactly was... **_quiet_ ** with his views on Easterlings alongside the faith of Mahal. Some of my finest trained bodyguards are exactly the kind of people who Túrin have desired to remove from life through violent means, and I have my own standards about who I want to service.  **_Túrin Turambar is a mentally stunted nine year old in the body of a adult man, refusing to accept reality that death is the natural end of all life and that accidents can happen to us all._ ** I refuse to get involved in stuff which feels suspicious when I hear about it, for I have a duty to care for my mother and refuses to cause her distress. If I ends up in prison, she will have no one else to care for her if she gets ill.” 

Fingolfin recalled how Sauron had done his best to calm down a terrified Arien after the arrests yesterday, and there had been something frail about her that hinted to that her health was not the best. And since Sauron did say that she had no other relatives...

“I agree about the mental state of Túrin Turambar,” Thranduil spoke up from his chair, “he is like a child forever focused on the traumatic way he lost his mother and his own feelings of who the responsible must be. He will justify any of the murders and acts of terrorism on what happened 14 years ago despite that he should have moved on and accepted it, just like his sister.” 

Túrin Turambar was a hopeless case in trying to reform. And since he was wanted by the Eastern Sultanate for his crimes, he had to lay in the bed he had made by his own actions. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even after a case is finished, something new always comes up

After about two weeks of negotiations between President Manwë Súlimo and the Sultan of the Eastern Sultanate, mainly because of the difference in time zones and their duties as leaders, it was decided that Túrin Turambar and the Wolf men would be transmitted to the Eastern Sultanate for their judgment and punishment. 

“A good choice. With Túrin in a different land and unable to bend in among the locals if he somehow manages to escape from a prison there, he will be easy to catch again,” Thror spoke after reading the newspaper at his desk. Things was somewhat back to being a calm day at the station, if you ignored the journalists and reporters who wanted anything new for media. 

“Miss Lalaith have donated nearly all their remaining family wealth to charity and other organizations that works to help those who are vulnerable or outcasts in society, keeping only a small part as her dowry for the wedding. She and her husband-to-be flew to his homeland a week ago.”

It was only natural that Lalaith wanted to break any connection with her brother. As a converted woman, living in the Eastern Sultanate, she would be free from unwanted attention. 

With all the crimes he had done and evidence pointing to his guilt, Túrin would most likely be sentenced remarkable fast. The Eastern Sultanate was famous for playing a lot of attention in a court of justice, but also swift to determine a verdict based on the crime and the evidence that existed. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

And Túrin indeed found out the hard way that the Eastern Sultanate was a firm believer of that convicts was to work for the food they ate and the shelter they had. 

He and the Wolf men was brought to a prison far out in the desert, where there would be no neighbors for many miles. Their fellow prisoners was mostly Easterlings with a lighter penalty that would ensure their release in a few months or years, but there was a few Westerners too. 

“Avoid making trouble, whatever you do. The guards are quick to punish you if it happens.” 

It did not take long, before they also learned that no, they would not be locked up in the prison all the time. Rather, the convicts was cut into chain-gangs and made to work in pental labour such as clean water channels from debris, assist in agriculture in smaller villages during sowing and harvesting. 

Every day was spent in some form of physical work, with only Fridays off since that was meant as a day for resting in old times. 

  
  


And Túrin did not last long there. His arrogance and being unaccustomed to be viewed as lesser than the people around him, brought him a lot of enemies both among the prisoners and guards. Perhaps the trigger was the news of Lalaith marrying her Easterling husband-to-be and fully becoming a citizen of the Eastern Sultanate though her marriage alongside the news of her first pregnancy, but his outburst of rage caused him to seem too dangerous for the people around him and one guard ended his life with a well-aimed shot in the head before Túrin started a fistfight with a fellow prisoner.

Túrin Turambar was placed in a unmarked grave out in a burial ground for prisoners in the desert, with only his name, reason behind his stay in the prison and date of death written down in a journal over all the deceased prisoners who had their final resting place there. 

His sister Lalaith only learnt about his death many decades later, when she was a old widow taken care of her sons and daughters with their families during her last years of life.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A month or so after the transmission, the police station got a very unusual letter delivered to them, in the form of a heavy packet. 

“This is unusual, indeed.” 

The delivery proved to be a huge amount of travel tickets, ten in each bundle, and all of them held a name on them. 

“A pre-paid holiday in the Eastern Sultanate, whatever we wants during the coming ten years, and the possibility of bringing our families with us?” Bard wondered in surprise when he realized what it was. 

“What a nice reward from the Vizier on behalf of the Sultan himself for helping out in the case with Túrin and the Wolf men. Their culture have a very long history that we here in the West rarely got to see in the past because the Eastern Sultanate guarded their borders very well in case of revolts or wars,” Thranduil smiled while looking at the supplied map where the tickets would be valid and which historical places that they could visit. 

  
  


When they arrived home, all four children was very eager at hearing about the reward. 

“Can we travel now during the spring break, dad? Pleeeease?” Tilda pleaded to Bard, which Sigrid agreed on: 

“It would be nice if we could travel before the big tourist season, dad, fewer tourists means that there will be lesser people if we will visit something.” 

Bain and Legolas also liked the idea of a family trip to the Eastern Sultanate, since the school had been focusing on the faith of Mahal during the past weeks to explain for the students what kind of religion it was, what role it had played in the course of history and why the Wolf men had made such terrorist attacks with such believers as targets. 

Jean told them to enjoy a family trip, since she had her horses to think about and there was a couple of foals that soon would be born, so she needed to stay at home to ensure that everything went smoothly.

  
  
  


The family trip to the Eastern Sultanate was pleasant, indeed. They found a hotel not far from a beach, in a smaller town that was not one of the bigger tourist centers.

“Hmmm? This was unexpected,” Thranduil said one morning when they had eaten breakfast on the hotel, and was making themselves ready for a guided group trip to a historic building not far from there, looking over the news in his cell phone. 

“The owner of the fashion company Doriath Beauty, his whole family and the board of directors all dead in a explosion that happened inside their summer house? Are it not Thingol Greymantle if I am right? And the main seat of the company are burned to the ground during the night despite the work of many firemen in Menegroth City?” 

From what Thranduil could read on the online news and Bard over the shoulder of his husband, none of the household staff had been caught in the explosion, for whatever reason, for a knockout gas had been spread inside the house through the ventilator to let in fresh air when the windows was closed and the staff had been carried out outside while being unconscious. 

“Thingol Greymantle had a lot of hidden enemies we in the police does not know about. Thror even got hold of some rumours about that he might have a few illegitimate children from both before and during his wedding to his wife Melian, while dotting on their daughter Luthien like a princess.” 

Well, this was not a case for their station or police unit. If the fashion company had any skeleton in the closet, it was bound to be revealed soon during the the investigation of what could be the motive behind the mass murder in the summer house. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the town of Formenos far up in northern Valinor, Emeldir was reading the newspaper about what had happened in Menegroth City. At her feet, her grandson enjoyed a new wooden toy he had gotten the previous day by his favorite babysitter, a local hunter who enjoyed to help Emeldir when he had a day off. 

“Beren will never reunite with Dior's mother now, it is impossible when she is dead and buried.” 

Simin, who had no idea about the woman who Beren had sired his son on, kept stirring in the pot to ensure that their lunch, an recipe from her homeland, was not burned before it was served. 

“I think it is good that we do not know when death will end life, for otherwise people would only get panic in terror over that it is their last day alive or something else that would only result in anxiety.” 

Emeldir did not doubt that Beren would get a massive shock at reading the newspaper today, but she honestly did not care. Her son had gotten himself in the mess he was stuck in, and she refused to help him. He was a grown adult, and could not act in irresponsible manner all his life. Right now, Dior needed her far more than her own son, which Emeldir had used as the key argument to become Dior's legal guardian and caretaker together with Beren's immaturity. 

“Khamûl said that he would arrive home to Formenos today with the express train in the evening. It will be wonderful to have my son here again for some days.” 

“Kau?” Dior asked in surprise, looking around as if he would see the male Easterling arrive though the front door at any moment. 

“Later in the evening, cutie,” Simin promised the toddler with a smile as she placed the pot on the set dinner table.

  
  
  


Back in the south, Sauron smiled a rather dark smile in triumph as he arrived to the nursing home. He was in a good mood since it was Arien's birthday and he knew that she would be happy to open her gift where the travel tickets to the Eastern Sultanate would be inside, knowing how much she would enjoy to finally be able to have a small family trip aboard with him, but also because of the news about Doriath Beauty. 

“Her best gift will be that Thingol Greymantle's name and social reputation will soon be tarnished forever. 

The world did not know about it due to Arien and her son keeping that information a tightly-sealed secret, but in truth Sauron was one of several illegitimate children Thingol had sired on house maids in his youth, and the mothers losing their employment as a result of it. Arien had her whole future ruined because of what Thingol had done to her, which Sauron always had resented. Therefore, he had made it his goal in life to ruin Doriath Beauty, and gotten a golden opportunity to sow the seeds of his plan when Thingol's daughter Luthien proved to have a affair with Beren Ladros behind the back of her fiance and said secret couple did nothing to avoid that Luthien got pregnant several months before the planned wedding, which had been cancelled when the other man had found out and refused to “ _ do the honorable thing and give the baby a official father _ ”, as it was called by a older term, especially as Luthien had been too far gone to do a abort without risks. 

“Mairon! Oh, what a wonderful bouquet you have with you today,” Arien whispered in joy at seeing him enter her room with all the gifts he had with him today. Sauron smiled gently at her before kissing her cheek, pretending as if he really had nothing to do with the explosion that had happened during the night before. 

“Happy birthday to you, mother dearest.”

That he truly meant, that she would have a lovely birthday, for all of that Arien one day would forget about it in the future. 


End file.
